


Repetition

by GoodJanet



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Alternate Timelines, F/M, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3961771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodJanet/pseuds/GoodJanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 1960s are not the first (or last) time Don and Peggy have worked together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repetition

She is shrouded in a green and white toga. Her long hair is curled and pinned. She is of modest means, but it is the Caesar’s birthday, so even Margaret herself has dolled up. Her friend Joanna insisted upon rouge, though she’s not sure why. Who is she supposed to be pleasing other than Marcus, who has failed to show up to the event? He must still be angry with her…

“Chin up,” Joanna says. “Here he comes. Try not to look so dour.”

She smiles, but it feels fake. Because it is.

“Relax,” Joan says between her teeth. “He liked them young.”

Margaret looks up and sees Joanna waving excitedly. And when she turns her head, she makes eye contact with _him_.

He’s so much more dashing than she had expected. People normally blow things about of proportion, but seeing the gold laurels resting atop his dark hair and the way his purple toga offset his deep brown eyes made her change her initial opinion.

It is not until he smiles crookedly at her and dips his chin in her direction that she realizes she had been caught staring. She catches her breath, not realizing she had lost it.

And just as quickly as she had seen and been acknowledged by him, his chariot had moved on.

“I told you this would be fun,” Joanna says smugly.

Margaret smiles in spite of herself.

“You were right.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Her family is not particularly well-to-do, but their crops did well this season, and now that she’s nearly an old maid, they have decided to send her to court to work and find a husband.

“I don’t know anything about court or court life.”

“Nonsense,” her mother says, packing up her meager belongings. “You studied typesetting under Madame Deever. Most people your age can’t even read or write their own name.”

Margaret sighs. Her mother has a point.

The trip to court from their little town is long and arduous, but Madame Deever wrote ahead of her arrival and Lords Sterling and Cooper were gracious enough in hiring her to type their missives. Neither of them come to collect her at the gate, however. Instead, she is greeted by another woman in a rich and yet still modest, green gown.

“Welcome! I am Lady Joanna. And you must be Lady…?”

“Margaret.”

“Lady Margaret. Your working area is this way.”

Joanna leads her down a long corridor. A few minstrels leer at her and her peasant attire.

“You’ll be working here.”

They’re in an antechamber with a large printing press and boxes filled with tin letters and inks.

“Now, I know it looks complicated, but I’ve been told that even a woman can operate it. Just try to remember what Sir Don says, come here, write it up, and viola!”

“I—I haven’t met Don yet.”

Joan smirks like she has a secret.

“You’ll know him when you meet him. And frankly, save a little bit of silver and get yourself some nice clothes. This is a castle, not a farm. Cleavage and ankles will get you everything.”

Just as Joanna’s heels are clicking, presumably to show Margaret a different area of the castle, a man shows up in the doorway. Joan immediately drops into a curtsey and leaves the room, but Margaret freezes. It startles the man into walking over to her.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Margaret Olson. The new girl.”

The man smiles.

“Welcome to Sterling Castle. I am Sir Don.”

Margaret’s eyes go wide, and she immediately curtseys. She even kisses his boots.

He immediately puts a stop to that and bids her to rise.

“I am your lord, not your husband. There is no need for that here.”

She looks up and smiles, relieved to hear that.

“That is all for now,” he says, kindly dismissing her.

Margaret quickly exits and tries to discern which direction Joanna went off in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time she sees him, she has a special assignment with her. There was a new kind of ale in town, but no one would try it because it wasn’t a 300 year old tradition like everything else in town was.

“We need to hire a young man to play a girl who compares to the fair Juliet. You’ve seen Shakespeare’s new play, yes? _Romeo and Juliet?_ ” Lord Don asks her.

“I have. It seems very childish, don’t you think?”

“Nonsense! Every woman wants to be enticing as she and every man wants to bed her. It’s exactly what everyone wants. We can even do a remake of the scene before another performance. Where it appears to be a scene from the play, but is actually for the ale!”

“Just because you’re the theater’s benefactor doesn’t mean that your idea is good. Or that they’ll even want to do it.”

Don shakes his head.

“You’ll see, Margaret. I’ve been in the business of selling and buying for a long time. I know what people want.”

Margaret is not at all surprised when the stage manager tells them to bugger off. The look on Don’s face is worth it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I’ve just heard news from Lane,” Don says, not bothering to knock.

Margaret hates it when he does that. People say nasty things when men barge into ladies’ chambers unannounced and unaccompanied.

“What is it?”

“We’ve both been chosen to be on the Mayflower. Roger, Cooper, Lane, and I were also selected.”

“I didn’t put my name in. I don’t have the means to afford that, and I certainly don’t want to be an indentured servant.”

Don smiles.

“It’s already taken care of. We’re starting over in a new world, and I want you there with me. We could use someone as smart and strong as you.”

It takes only a little deliberating before she consents and begins packing her things.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Margaret, or Peggy, as she prefers to be called, decides to leave the company. Don has moved onto things he deems more important than her, and so she must then look out for herself. There is word Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce will be advertising for a new railroad, but she’s already been told that she’ll have no part in it.

“I can’t stay here, Don. CGC hires women too, you know. Ted has already given me the job.”

If it wouldn’t been seen as desperate, Don knows he would be in tears at her word. 

“If it mean you’ll be happy, then I have to let you go.”

Peggy hurries out of the office before anyone can see her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With a short haircut and a new beaded dress, Peggy carries her box of things into the new (well old to her) office of SCDPCGC. She and Don round corners and walk right up to each other. He looks drunk and tired, but he grins from ear to ear.

“Glad to have you back,” he says so no one else can hear.

“It’s good to see you,” she says. 

And it sounds fake, even to her own ears. She just really doesn’t feel like arguing or making a scene. She doesn’t want to be here, but if she has to be, she’s going to make the most of it. She puts her box down and lights a cigarette.

“How did you get liquor?”

“I keep in touch with Freddy.”

Peggy shakes her head.

“You’re terrible.”

She doesn’t just mean the alcohol. And he knows it.

“It’s going to be okay.”

He means it to be reassuring, but mostly, it comes across as pathetic. She knows she can do better. She just wishes she knew how…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His summons to fight is set for two weeks from now. He has two weeks to get sober, make amends with Megan, and to try to apologize to Peggy. It’s never going to happen, and he’s probably going to die. 

He needs a drink.

Don decides to lock up his office today. What’s the point in prolonging the inevitable? He’ll leave the keys with Peggy. She’ll keep them safe.

He wanders down the hall to her office and knocks on her door.

“Come in!” she calls.

“Hello.”

She lifts her fingertips off of her typewriter and turns to face him. She crosses her arms for good measure.

“Yes?”

“I’m leaving.”

“That’s great. Thank you for sharing that.”

“I mean I’m leaving for Europe. In two weeks. To fight.”

He wishes he had told her sooner. He regrets putting this off.

“What? Why didn’t you say anything? Are you kidding?”

Don puts his shiny brass key on her desk.

“I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just need to you take care of things while I’m gone.”

“Me?”

“Jesus, Peggy, who else would I ask? Roger’s worse than me, Lane’s dead, Cooper’s barely here anymore, Cutler wants to sell the place, and Ted doesn’t give a shit about what happens here. You’re the only one I can trust. Do you want to end up at McCann?”

When Peggy manages to pick her jaw up from the floor, she grabs the key and swiftly pockets it. It’s been a long time since Don Draper gave such an impassioned speech about anything. And to trust her more than Roger or Cooper really meant that this was serious.

“Okay. Yes. I can take care of things while you’re gone.”

Don sighs in relief. She can actually see some of his worry lines melt away.

“Good. Thank you. I know you’ll do great things while I’m gone.”

He sounds sincere. He must really mean it. She tries not to let it show on her face what her heart and head are telling her.

“But you’re coming back?”

“You’re going to do great things.”

She hates that. She hates that he can’t promise his safety. The tears do come this time.

“I need to go,” he says. “Megan is waiting for me.”

“Of course, of course. You go. But you can always come home. Don’t forget.”

Don smiles.

“I could never forget you,” he says.

He closes the door behind him.


End file.
